Weekend in the Quiet Corner

You might remember me saying that we were going to Martha's Vineyard for the 4th of July weekend. Plans changed, as so many plans have changed this year (sometime I'll tell you about the dozen different summer trips we mapped out before actual flights were booked). Unsure how well three months of pregnancy and three nights of tent sleeping would mix, I canceled our campground reservations only to discover that all hotels were already booked. Ah well. Next year, perhaps?

Instead, we found ourselves in Connecticut's "Quiet Corner", a sleepy, somewhat bucolic area in the north of the state. We stayed at a beautiful B & B, wandered down country roads, snuck into a corn field (being careful, of course, not to disturb any of the corn), swam in a pool, saw fireworks. On the actual 4th, we went to Woodstock's annual 4th of July Jamboree. This place was almost unreal in its small-town Americana charm. There was a frog jumping contest for kids(' frogs). There was a pie eating contest (not for frogs). The ladies of the church sold strawberry shortcake with homemade biscuits. A band played in the gazebo - the band meets once a month in the local church basement, and its leader invited members of the general public to come and join anytime.

The festival's high point was the parade - it was the coolest, folksiest, small towniest parade I've ever seen. The elderly veterans marched first, followed by a marching band of local citizens. The town's kids came next - it seemed like every single one was there - on bikes decked out with balloons, red-white-and-blue streamers, and stuffed animals. A string of vintage cars followed, and the local fire trucks closed things out. Short, simple. 

 the view

 the corn (way more than knee high, by the way)

 measuring the frog's jump

fancy bikes in the parade

(And on an unrelated note, Germany lost its game today. I've written about the team a couple times, so I thought I'd complete the story arc with a mention of their demise. A sad day indeed.)